The Ciaramella
by WillowDryad
Summary: Her music charmed Peter's heart, but was there dark magic in it? Golden Age. PeterXOC.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Peter Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me. This story takes place after "Counted Among the Traitors."**

Chapter One

Peter leapt his horse over a fallen tree and urged it into a gallop. Susan and Edmund and Lucy had almost been forced to send him to Archenland bound and under guard, but now that he was here, he was glad he'd come. The winter had been dire, and he had almost lost his life and his kingdom to treachery and betrayal. For some time afterward, the healers were afraid that he would never truly regain his health. But the spring had come in, sweet and fresh and bracing, and brought the color back to his face and the strength back to his limbs.

He and Edmund and the girls had taken some time to put things at court into some semblance of order after that, but now they all assured him it was done and he needed a rest. A week or so of late-summer hunting now, and he would be ready to be High King again. He missed his own family of course, but jolly King Lune was the perfect host and made him feel right at home. And having Prince Corin around reminded him of when he had first come into Narnia over ten years ago.

Peter dodged a low tree limb and jumped his horse over a shallow stream. Corin was now about the age Edmund had been then and almost as mischievous and daring. Peter had to stay alert every moment or fall victim to one of his pranks. In some ways it made him feel terribly old. Had he ever been ten? Surely he had been. Back in that Other Place, that England. But that was a lifetime and a kingdom ago.

And yet in other ways it made him feel like the boy who had pulled pranks of his own with a ten-year-old brother as his confederate. His lips twitched. Would it be terribly irresponsible of him to turn the tables on Corin just once before he left? Perhaps with a sly bit of help from King Lune himself?

Glancing back to see if Bast and Babur, the Tigers who were his personal guard, had caught up to him yet, Peter chuckled and rode a bit faster, reviewing the pranks he and Edmund had once played. Pranks older than Corin. Pranks Corin would not be expecting. If Lune would come in on the game, they could–

There was a loud crack. Stars and pain erupted inside his head, and then black nothingness swallowed him.

OOOOO

Pain.

Peter groaned and squeezed his eyes more tightly shut. Even the thought of light made him want to be sick.

"Shh, shh," someone murmured, and there was a soothing wet coolness against his throbbing forehead. "Lie still."

He didn't have to be told twice. Even the slightest movement made those fiendish flashes of lightning pierce his skull and burn his eyes. He concentrated instead on keeping his breathing slow and even and trying to figure out who had spoken to him.

The voice was female, to be sure. Gentle and low. Not Narnian, or at least not native to his kingdom. The accent told him she was from Archenland. All right, that made sense. He was in Archenland, wasn't he? Yes, he was sure he was. That meant his companion was almost certainly human.

He reached up and caught the hand that was smoothing back his hair. A small, fine-boned hand. Very soft.

"Who–?"

"Shh," she said again. "I've sent someone to bring back help. You ought to watch out for low branches if you're determined to gallop through the forest like that."

Now he did manage to open one eye. After a moment, the girl's face came into focus. Four eyes, two noses . . . He blinked hard. No, that was all right. She had only two eyes, rather pretty gray ones, and only one nose. He blinked hard again and forced himself to open both eyes.

"My Lady," he said, for judging by the deep, plum-colored velvet she wore and the pale perfection of her skin, she was no less, "I am sorry to have troubled you. If you would but help me to my feet–"

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I will not." She held him where he was. "You may be hurt worse than you know. Wait until help comes."

He struggled just a moment more, and then he let his head sink back into her lap. But he did not again close his eyes.

"Bast and Babur, they were right behind me. They–"

"I am here, High King." Bast came into his line of sight, her green eyes narrowed, her words little more than a low growl as she looked down on him. "My brother and this lady's maid have gone for help. I would scold you for not being more careful, but it seems you've had that lecture already."

The girl giggled, and he felt his face turn warm. It wouldn't do to lie here like an imbecile and be laughed at.

He sat up and the forest spun around his head.

"Your Majesty!" The girl steadied him, looking genuinely alarmed. "Please."

Bast put one weighty paw on his shoulder, pressing until he lay down again. "Now stay there, if you please, My King, and I will see if Babur is in sight yet."

She padded away, and the girl patted his forehead again with the damp cloth she held. "She sees to her duties well."

Peter smiled faintly. "She and her brother have been looking after me for about seven years now."

The girl smiled, too. "When they came into the clearing and found you unconscious and me leaning over you, I thought they might eat me alive. If you had had them with you when we met before, I would certainly have made sure to introduce myself to them so they would know I meant you no harm."

Peter blinked. He had met her before? He didn't at all remember her. Not that she wasn't very pleasant looking and all that, but he had met a lot of girls since he'd become King.

"I do beg your pardon, My Lady. I think my fall must have jostled my memory. I don't–"

She laughed merrily. "You needn't apologize, Your Majesty. When we were introduced, I was in a group of about three dozen ladies, and there was but one of you. You could hardly be expected to remember all of us. Besides that, you were sixteen and I was twelve."

"Oh, the little girl my sister Lucy's age," he said, smiling. "Of course."

She pursed her lips, but that laugh was still in her eyes. "You still do not remember me in the least, do you."

He winced. "I fear not, My Lady. Do forgive me and tell me your name."

"I am the daughter of Duke Jan, one of King Lune's nobles, and my name is Linnet."

**Author's Note: I have for a long time wanted to write a story showing Peter's romantic side. In fact, I started work on this at least a year ago, maybe more. Soooo . . . ?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Peter Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me.**

Chapter Two

Peter shifted restlessly in his bed. They had brought him back to Anvard on a litter like some helpless thing, though he had assured the healers that he was perfectly able to ride. Now they insisted that he lie still in a dark room.

"Your head is injured, Your Majesty. It will not be well again unless you behave yourself for a few days."

So much for his plans to hunt until he had to go back to Cair Paravel. At least King Lune had agreed there was no reason to worry his family with the news of his injury. They'd all have dropped whatever they were doing to come to his bedside, even though there was absolutely nothing they could do short of the cordial, and time would heal him just as well. He sighed. Lots and lots of time.

He exhaled heavily and closed his eyes, trying again to sleep. Time would pass more quickly if he could sleep, but sleep would do no more than toy with him. It was going to be a very long few days.

There was a soft tap on the door and then it opened to reveal his host wearing a subdued but genuine smile.

"How are you feeling, lad?" Lune asked. "Up to meeting someone?"

"Certainly." Peter hauled himself into a sitting position, happy for any kind of distraction. "If he will forgive my not getting up."

"I am certain he will understand." Lune nodded towards the door, and a middle-aged man, stooped and dragging one foot, came into the room. "King Peter, may I present to you Janin, Duke of Deerfield, in the west of my kingdom. Duke Janin, this is High King Peter of Narnia."

The Duke bowed as best he was able and then gave Peter a gentle smile. "I am most pleased to meet you, My Lord King. I am most grieved to hear you have been injured."

Peter nodded, careful not to move his head too quickly. "I thank you, My Lord Duke. It is kind of you to come to see me."

"I thought," the Duke continued, smiling a little more broadly, "I thought, since you must lie in the near-darkness here and do nothing, you might enjoy some soft music. It may even help you to sleep."

"And sleep is healing," Lune put in.

Music. That was it? Peter repressed a sigh and managed a polite smile. "That would be most kind of you, My Lord."

"My niece will play for you a while," Duke Janin said.

He stretched out his hand, and Lady Linnet stepped into the room and made a deep curtsey.

"Good afternoon, My Lord King. I trust you are feeling better today."

Peter's smile became more genuine, and then he sank back down into the bed, aware he was wearing only a nightshirt and was hardly dressed to be in a lady's presence.

"I am, My Lady, I thank you for asking."

He noticed the instrument she carried, a wooden pipe with a double reed and eight finger holes. The closest thing to it, as best he could remember from that Other Place, was the oboe, but here they called it a ciaramella. He had sometimes heard it played, alternately irritatingly shrill or hauntingly lovely. He hoped she would, at least for now, settle on lovely.

"I did not know you were musical, Lady."

She lowered her eyes, the pink in her cheeks deepening. "I play a little, My Lord, so please you."

Her uncle shook his head, looking at her fondly. "If you will forgive my saying so, Your Majesty, but she plays to make the angels weep with envy."

"Uncle," she reproved, her color deepening, but Janin only smiled.

"See if I am not right, My Lord King. Come, Linnet, play."

He pulled up a chair for her, and she sat down, nervously wetting her lips before taking up the instrument.

The first note was soft, so soft and sweet that Peter couldn't help closing his eyes. It somehow soothed his head and made him think of the breeze off Lucy's Eastern Sea. As the song continued, still low and tender, the notes wafting through the air like the scent of flowers, the tension went out of his shoulders, and he nestled more deeply against his pillow, almost hearing the gentle lap of the sea and tasting the salt-tang in the air. Just as he was prepared to swear he could feel sun-warmed sand at his back, the song ended.

Peter stayed just as he was for a long moment more, hating to let go, but then he opened his eyes. Linnet was looking at him, no doubt waiting for his assessment of her playing. Her uncle merely looked at King Lune, his expression more than a little pleased.

"My Lady, I–" Peter shook his head. "Lady Linnet, that may have been the loveliest thing I have ever heard. Truly, I thank you."

"Would you–" She bit her lip and glanced at her uncle and then at Peter again. "Would you wish me to play more, My Lord?"

"I would be most honored, Lady, and for as long as you would like."

Her uncle nodded his consent and turned again to the door. "Ada."

A plump little wren of a woman in blue scurried into the room and curtsied. "My Lord Duke?"

"Lady Linnet is going to play for King Peter."

"I will look after them, My Lord. You needn't worry."

King Lune and Duke Janin made their farewells and were soon gone, and Ada came to Peter's bedside.

"Now just you rest yourself, Your Majesty." She plumped his pillow and then settled him against it. "Close your eyes and don't trouble about anything. You'll soon be asleep."

He lay back, but then he leaned up on one elbow, looking at Linnet once again. "This is most kind of you, Lady."

A smile touched her lips. "It is my honor, My Lord King. Truly. Now lie back and take your ease."

He did as she said, closing his eyes as she began to play, and soon he was again on the shores of the Eastern Sea, with the cry of the Gulls in his ears and, against his cheek, the warm kiss of the wind.

**Author's Note: What do you think? Please let me know if you'd like me to continue.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Peter Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me.**

Chapter Three

Peter remembered little after that beyond the music of the ciaramella. Sometimes, light and whimsical, it took him to the grassy slopes of the foothills under Susan's Southern Sun. Sometimes, when it turned smoky and mysterious, he was in Edmund's misty Western Wood, the smell of pine and loamy undergrowth filling his nose. And sometimes, with notes that soared like the flight of an Eagle, he was under his own clear Northern Sky, climbing the snowy peaks with all Narnia spread like a tapestry before him. And once, when the tune was so pure and sweet and perfect that he felt certain his heart would break, it brought him to the Great Hall in Cair Paravel at the very feet of Aslan.

When the music and the vision faded into nothingness, he woke with tear-filled eyes.

"My Lord King?"

He swiped his sleeve across his face and looked over at Linnet. She was somewhat pale and her eyes, too, had tears in them, but she managed a sweet smile.

"How are you feeling today, My Lord?"

It took him a moment to realize that the ever-present pounding in his skull was gone. It was totally gone.

He sat up. "Very well, Lady, I thank you. I uh . . . "

He looked towards the window, wanting to know how the sun stood in the sky, and saw Linnet's maid, Ada, sitting there in the early light, looking up from her sewing, a motherly fondness in her dark eyes.

"The Lion bless that sweet face of yours, King Peter, awake at last? And hungry I'll warrant."

Peter blushed when his stomach growled in answer. "Yes, I suppose I am. What time is it? What _day_ is it?"

Bast had been curled up at the foot of the bed, but she stood and stretched her lithe body, and then came to stand over him, staring down into his eyes. "It is seventh hour, Sire. And this is Second Day."

Her twin, Babur, got up from his post at the chamber door. "You've been five days asleep, Majesty. It seems to have done you good."

"Five days?" He sat up and stretched his muscles, feeling them remarkably supple for being so unused. "I feel like I've had no more than a good nap."

When he had been so ill the winter before, tormented and poisoned and bewitched, he had fought through nightmares and night terrors, through fears real and imagined and the wasting of his flesh and muscle. This now was all peace and fair dreams, a sweet respite while his body healed. And the Lady Linnet–

"And have you played all this while, Lady?"

She shook her head, a merry twinkle in her eye. "That would be beyond my poor power. But I did try to be here when you had need of me. Whenever you grew restless. Do you not remember the healers coming to you now and again?"

Now that he thought about it, he did remember them looking into his eyes and asking him to tell them where they were and what his name was, reminding him again that he must lie still and sleep as much as he was able. And someone had fed him broth from time to time and washed his face with cool water.

"I do remember," he said. "A little. Mostly it was the music. Lady, how–?" He broke off, aware of all the eyes upon him. "That was most kind of you, Lady Linnet. Now if you will pardon me, I feel it is time I dressed and got up."

"Now now, young sir," Ada said, jumping to her feet and dropping her embroidery into her chair. "You'd best stay just where you are until you are given leave to do otherwise." She approached the bed, clearly wary of the Tigers, but determined nonetheless. "Now, if you please, Master and Mistress Tiger, see your King stays still until I can bring back one of the healers to look him over. If you please, thank you very much."

Bast and Babur exchanged a subtle smirk, but Babur nodded.

"We will see to him, Mistress."

Ada scurried out and was back just a moment later, three of the healers in tow. Half an hour after that, Peter was dressed and joining King Lune at breakfast.

"Well now," the jolly King boomed, "you're looking fit. From what the healers said, I thought you might be in bed a while yet."

"I am quite well now, I thank you," Peter said, and then he bowed to the girl at the other side of the table. "Thanks to Lady Linnet and her lovely music."

She blushed and pushed a strand of honey-colored hair behind her ear, but her uncle grinned, his weary eyes glinting with pride.

"What did I tell you, Your Majesty? But no doubt you have greater wonders in your own lands. King Lune tells me not only your beasts speak, but your trees and your waters as well. It is something I should very much like to see before-" Duke Janin shrugged his stooped shoulders. "Well, before long."

"You should come to Narnia, My Lord," Peter said. "You and your niece would be most welcome. It would be little enough to show my thanks for what you have done."

He sat down next to Prince Corin who was happily shoveling porridge into his mouth.

"Nah wiloo daymee hunnig?"

Lune gave his son a reproving glance. "Not with your mouth full, son."

Corin swallowed and managed to look briefly repentant. "Sorry, father. But King Peter, will you? Now that you're better, will you take me hunting? I was hoping you would take me hunting before you go."

"I'm sorry, Corin. I would have liked to, but I won't be able to this time. I have to leave tomorrow. There are things I must see to at home, and I can't stay any longer. But we'll do it soon, all right? And perhaps you and your father will visit us at Christmas. How would that be?"

Corin's mouth turned down. "That would be a long time from now."

"Corin," Lune said.

Corin sighed. "That would be very nice, thank you, King Peter."

Peter chuckled at the utter insincerity in the boy's voice and ruffled the blond hair. "Don't despair, Corin. You know Susan wouldn't let you go very long without a visit. And Edmund has probably figured out three or four dozen new ways for the two of you to devil me. He won't want to wait very long before trying them out."

Corin gave a gleeful chortle and turned back to his porridge.

OOOOO

When breakfast was over, Peter sought out Lady Linnet. He did want to thank her for easing his recovery with her music. And there was more he wanted to know.

He found her sitting on a stone bench in the garden under a silver maple. Her maid was beside her, both of them sitting in companionable silence, busied with their needles. Neither woman noticed him until he was standing before them.

Linnet put her hand over her heart. "My Lord King, forgive me. I did not see you there."

He made a courtly bow. "Forgive me, Lady, I should have made my presence known. Have you your leisure now? I would speak a word to you."

She bowed her head. "As pleases you, My Lord King. Pray excuse us, Ada."

The maid curtsied and hurried away, but only as far as the bench that was under a shady oak a few yards away. As propriety demanded, she could see them but not hear them.

Peter nodded towards the bench. "May I, Lady?"

"Of course."

Linnet pulled her skirts a little closer to herself, and Peter sat beside her.

"Thank you again, My Lady, for what you have done. I would not have healed so quickly and so well but for you."

She smiled. "You are most welcome. Why does Aslan give us gifts if they're not to be used?"

"Very true," he said. "Very true. Might I ask . . . " He stopped himself, not wanting to be too abrupt. "Your uncle, Lady, is the Duke of Deerfield? I thought your father was the Duke."

A shadow of sorrow passed across her face. "He _was_ the Duke. But two years ago he died, and since I have no brothers, my uncle became Duke in his place. He has become a father to me, too, but now–"

"But now," he said when she did not go on. "Now he is not well."

Her smile was steeped in grief. "He is dying, My Lord."

"And there is nothing to be done for him? Perhaps your music. Aslan Himself made the world with His song. And I can see yours is truly a gift from Him. Could not your uncle also be helped?"

She shook her head. "I am no healer, King Peter. If the Great Lion has blessed me with His gift, it is but a small thing. A thing of comfort and ease. Your body would have healed with or without my music. My uncle's will not. And he does not wish to spend the days left to him in dreams and oblivion."

"Yes, I can see that. I could tell by what he said this morning. He wants to live what life is left to him to its full." He looked into her eyes, wanting her to know he was in earnest. "I meant what I said to him, Lady. It would please me very much if you both would come to Narnia. My sisters and brother will want to thank you for your kindness to me, and you will find Cair Paravel has much to offer her guests."

There was deep gratitude in her eyes, but she shook her head.

"No, My Lord. It is most gracious of you, but we could never impose upon your kindness in this way."

"It would be no imposition, I swear it to you, Lady. If you feel it right to use your gifts to help others, should I not also? Aslan has granted me a glorious kingdom. What better place for your uncle to finish out his days? There is much to see that his dukedom does not offer. Much you would both enjoy. Will you not allow me to share my gift with you as you did yours with me?"

He held out his hand in entreaty, and after a moment she gave him hers.

**Author's Note: Okay, there's a nice long chapter for you long-chapter fans. What do you think? Please let me know.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Peter and Edmund Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me.**

Chapter Four

_Dear Susan, Edmund and Lucy,_

_How did you find out I was hurt? I know, I know. A little Birdie told you. Those Robins can never keep their beaks shut. Anyway, please know I am perfectly well now and coming home tomorrow. Duke Janin of Deerfield and Lady Linnet will be coming with me for a visit. Please make them welcome._

_Love to you all,_

_Your Magnificent Brother, Peter_

_Given at the Castle Anvard this XXVII day of the month Greenroof in the eleventh year of High King Peter of Narnia_

"Our magnificent brother," Edmund grumbled, and Lucy giggled.

"You know he only signs that way to annoy us."

"To annoy me, you mean." He folded the message again and handed it to Susan. "Will you please see they have the proper accommodations?"

Susan nodded and he could tell she was already making plans.

"Have you met this Duke Janin, Edmund?"

Edmund shook his head. "I met Duke Jan about five years ago when we were visiting Anvard, but I don't much remember him. Nice fellow, as I recall. Widower, I think. Might have had some children. It was right before Peter and I were in that mess in Tashbaan, and I don't remember all that much about it now. Jan must have passed away, and his brother is now the Duke."

"Obviously." Susan narrowed her eyes, evidently making a mental assessment of the guest rooms they had available. "Well, I will put him and his lady in the green room in the north tower. They should be comfortable there. Are they elderly, do you suppose?"

"I'd think middle aged," Edmund said. "Jan was getting on towards forty when I met him. I'd expect his brother wouldn't be far from that. I don't know about Lady Linnet. She might be near his age. Or, if she is his second or third wife, perhaps half that. Maybe you girls can make a friend of her."

"Of course we will," Lucy said. "No matter how old she is."

Edmund leaned over and kissed her temple. Dear Lucy was always ready to make friends.

"We will make her welcome, " Susan said, a bit more guardedly.

The winter had not been easy on her. She had been deceived and used by the villain who had tried to take Peter's crown and his life, and in the end, it had been her own arrow that had kept that same villain from killing Edmund. She was determined to not be gulled again.

Edmund leaned over and kissed her, too. "I know you will. Anything I can do to help?"

She pretended to be severe. "Just stay out from underfoot. And if you've taken anything of Peter's, you'd better put it back before he gets home."

Edmund put on a look of wounded innocence. "Me? Truly, Lady, you know I hold the chamber of the High King to be sacrosanct."

"You mean like the time you sneaked in there while Peter was asleep and had two Bears lift up his bed while you put chairs under each leg so he couldn't reach the floor when he got up?"

Again, Susan tried to look severe, but then she and Lucy burst out laughing.

"Not my fault the great lummox ended up in a heap the next morning," Edmund said with a grin. "If he didn't insist on getting up at the crack of stupid every morning, he might have had enough light to notice."

Susan tapped his nose with one slender finger. "He's not likely to change his ways now any more than you are yours, night owl. Now come along. We have guests to prepare for, and Peter's coming home."

Edmund was still grinning as he padded up the stone steps to his own chamber. Peter was coming home. The Cair was never quite the same without him. Leave it to the idiot to be away for just a couple of weeks and manage to get himself hurt. Again. If Edmund hadn't had so much of his own work to do, he would have gone along to Anvard to keep Peter out of trouble. He laughed ruefully. They seemed to get into plenty of trouble when they were together, too.

Well, Peter would be home soon with a middle-aged Duke and Duchess to entertain. No political implications. No stress. No threat. Just a pleasant visit at home. It would make a nice change.

OOOOO

Lucy stood on her toes and squinted into the distance. "Where are they?"

"They're coming," Edmund said. "And we're already on the tallest tower at the Cair. Standing tiptoe isn't really going to help you see any farther."

She made a face at him but stood flat again. "Well, I miss him, even if you don't."

"Of course I miss him, but fretting isn't going to get him here any sooner."

"Oh, look!" Lucy pointed as a Gyrfalcon swooped out of the forest to the south and into the window of the great hall. "It's Sigurd! Come on!"

Edmund hurried after her. It was hard to keep up with his little sister when she was determined to get somewhere. Sigurd was one of Peter's scouts. No doubt his appearance meant Peter and his guests were coming soon.

Susan met them at the foot of the stairs. "Come on. Sigurd says they're less than half a mile off. I want them to have a proper welcome."

She herded Edmund and Lucy into the courtyard and, once there, stopped to smooth Lucy's fair hair and straighten Edmund's doublet. "Plenty of time later for our guests to find out that you're both little savages."

Edmund pouted. "Aww, be fair, Su. I haven't been a little savage for a long time now."

Lucy looked up at him. "He's a big savage now."

This time it was Edmund who made a face and then he sobered. There was Peter's guard, the Tigers Bast and Babur and a number of Faun archers and banner bearers and a couple of slow witted but impressive looking brown Bears. But why was one of the foot soldiers leading Peter's stallion?

Edmund started towards them, but Susan swiftly took hold of his arm.

"They'll be here in just a moment, Ed. Please remember we have guests."

Lucy's delicate brows knit together. "But, Susan, what if Peter's–"

"Peter said he is perfectly well."

Edmund frowned. "Peter always says he's perfectly well until he faints dead away in a pool of his own blood."

"Edmund!"

Susan pursed her lips, and Edmund saw the tears that had sprung into her eyes.

"Su."

He grabbed her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze, remembering how close they had come to losing Peter just this past winter. They none of them needed to imagine a little knock on the head would prove so dire now.

Soon a carriage pulled into the courtyard. It was made in the Archenlandish style, rather tall and narrow but beautifully ornamented. Peter had to be inside. Was he too ill to ride?

One of the Fauns bowed and moved to open the carriage door, but Edmund grabbed it first and opened it himself. Peter leapt out and caught him in a huge hug.

"Edmund!"

"Peter?"

Peter released him, smiling and looking as perfectly well as he had written he was. No, he looked better than just well. He looked happy. Much happier than should any young man who had to travel, by carriage no less, in the company of a stodgy middle-aged couple.

"How are you, Ed? Lucy!" He grabbed their little sister and swung her into the air before clutching her close and kissing both of her cheeks before turning to the elder. "Su."

Susan put one soft hand to his face, smiling tremulously to see there was truly nothing to fear for him, and he pulled her close, too.

"How I've missed the three of you. Do you know–"

"Your guests," Susan reminded him with a gracious smile, and he laughed softly.

"Of course. Stand by." He leaned into the carriage and held out his hand. "Might I help you, My Lord?"

Trembling slightly and leaning heavily on Peter, an old-looking man, stoop shouldered and sallow, climbed out of the door.

"Duke Janin, this is my brother, King Edmund, and my sisters, the Queens Susan and Lucy." Peter turned to his family. "May I present Duke Janin of Deerfield."

The girls curtseyed and Edmund bowed, trying to keep the puzzlement off his face. This was Duke Jan's _younger_ brother? He oughtn't to have been more than in his forties, but he looked much older. But he looked ill as well. Perhaps that was all it was. What would his wife be like?

Peter leaned into the carriage once again, and to Edmund's surprise, handed out a young lady about Lucy's age. She was sweet faced, slender and yet shapely, with hair that was more brown than blonde and eyes that were softly gray. Unlike their tall sisters, she barely came up to Peter's chin. Edmund suppressed a grin. No wonder Peter had wanted to ride in the carriage.

"And this," Peter said, "is Duke Janin's niece, Lady Linnet."

**Author's Note: The incidents they're referring to from the past winter are recounted in my story "Counted Among the Traitors." Peter and Edmund's "mess in Tashbaan" is detailed in my story "Refined by Fire." Feel free to check them out if you'd like more details. And please let me know what you think of this story. Otherwise I'll be sad and unable to write more. :::sniffle:::  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Peter and Edmund Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me.**

Chapter Five

Edmund struggled to keep a straight face as Peter made the proper introductions. So Lady Linnet was Duke Janin's niece and not his wife. Susan would definitely skin Peter out for not making that clear in his message. Information such as this was vital to the proper assignment of guest quarters.

"My Lady," Edmund said as he bowed over the girl's hand. "You are right welcome to Cair Paravel."

She made a graceful curtsey. "I thank you, King Edmund."

"We are very happy to have you and your uncle with us," Susan said with her customary graciousness. "Do come inside while we see to your accommodations." Her eyes narrowed only the slightest bit as she turned to Peter. "Will you see to Duke Janin, brother?"

Peter swallowed hard. "Of course, sister."

He most likely didn't know exactly what he had done, but after that look, he had to know he'd done something to annoy the Gentle Queen. Edmund chuckled to himself. Susan would definitely make it clear at the first opportune moment that she must always have complete information about any visitor to Cair Paravel.

"This way if you please," Peter said to the Duke.

Janin bowed and then stumbled on the first step, smiling when Peter caught his arm.

"Most kind of you, Your Majesty. Most kind."

"Are you well, sir?" Susan asked, taking charge of him herself.

"It is nothing, dear lady." Janin patted her hand, smiling faintly, though his face was more sickly looking than only a few minutes before. "Just a bit weary after our journey."

She turned her dazzling smile on him. "Of course. How thoughtless of us. You must rest until supper."

She led him away, and their younger sister immediately turned to Lady Linnet. "I'll show you around until your room is ready. Call me Lucy."

Linnet smiled. "I thank you, Your Majesty."

"Lucy," Lucy insisted, and Linnet's smile widened.

"Lucy then. Thank you."

"Make yourself at home," Peter told her, and she curtseyed again.

"You are most kind, My Lord King."

The two girls linked arms and disappeared into the Cair with the maid, Ada, scurrying after them.

Once they were gone, Edmund looked at Peter. "Did you ride all the way from Anvard in that carriage?"

Peter nodded.

"Really?"

Again Peter nodded. "Really. Why?"

Edmund crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Of course. Why?"

"You hate carriages, Peter. When we saw you weren't riding your horse, we thought for certain you must be at death's door." Edmund snickered. "Or were you under some spell?"

Peter laughed. "No. No spell."

"A love spell?" Edmund suggested, and again his brother laughed.

"I hardly know the girl, but I must admit she interests me. When I was hurt, the healers said I had to lie still in a dark room for several days. You know how much fun that is."

Edmund made a face. "I don't know which of us is worse at bed rest, but we're both pretty bad."

"She played for me during that time, and I had the most wonderful dreams. I didn't even realize how much time had passed until after I was well enough to get up again. I think she has a special gift from Aslan in her music."

"She knows Aslan?"

Peter nodded. "Not that we had a chance to talk much about Him, but it's nice to know we have that much in common."

"So if you're not in love, why did you bring her home to meet us? Now that they know she's the Duke's niece and not his wife, the girls are probably already planning the royal wedding."

Peter shook his head. "Nothing like that. Duke Janin wants to see Narnia while he's still able."

Edmund glanced towards the castle. "He's dying, isn't he? He has that look about him."

"The healers call it a wasting sickness. Do you remember at all from that other place what they called it?"

"Cancer." Edmund pressed his lips together. "An ugly way to go. Well, we will make his time here as pleasant as we can." He swatted Peter on the shoulder, grinning. "And as far as the lady is concerned, keep your eyes open. You never can tell if you've lighted on a Hag in disguise or your future Queen."

"Now there's a comforting thought." Peter laughed and draped one arm around his brother's shoulders as they walked into the Cair. "How ever did I manage without you?"

OOOOO

Susan and Edmund and Lucy had seen to things quite well during Peter's absence, and he found he had very little work to catch up on. It gave him the opportunity to get to know Lady Linnet better, and the next few days passed pleasantly enough. They spoke of books he had read back in that Other Place and tales she knew from Archenland. They talked about their families and their lives until now and, sometimes, Aslan Himself. Mostly she wanted to know about Narnia and how he managed to govern a land filled with such diverse creatures.

Though she was rather quiet most of the time, he found she could be as merry as Lucy when the situation warranted it. And he saw in her care of her uncle that she could also be as tender as Susan. A Queen, especially the High Queen of Narnia, would need such qualities if she were to care for each of her subjects, down to the littlest Mouse, with kindness and dignity.

He usually scoffed at himself when he had such thoughts. He had been smitten before, more than once, but in each case, when he had truly gotten to know the girl, he found himself pulling away. They were most of them perfectly nice, and if he'd made his decision based on hot blood rather than a cool head, he would have been married six or eight years ago. But none of them had been particularly special to him. None of them had been right. Not for him. Not for Narnia.

Of course, he and Edmund and the girls, too, had had their share of suitors who professed love when their only true interest was a crown. Those were usually easy to weed out. And then there were those times when outright deceit, a plot from Calormen or Telmar or somewhere closer to home, or even dark magic was turned against them. Edmund hadn't been entirely joking when he mentioned Hags in disguise. It had made them all a bit wary of anything more than innocent flirtation. But now– Well, now things might be different.

He found the girls down in the garden, Lucy practicing with her dagger and Susan with her bow. He managed to make his way over to them without getting hit.

"And where are our guests?" he asked as he dropped down onto one of the stone benches under an old oak.

Susan leaned her bow against the bench and sat next to him. "The Duke is napping I believe. He's so eager to see Narnia, the poor man, but he tires very easily. I wish we could do something for him."

"Perhaps the cordial," Peter suggested, but Lucy shook her head.

"Don't scold me, Peter, but I gave him some that first day he was here. He seemed so poorly and Linnet was so upset, I thought I'd try it and not tell anyone."

Peter squeezed her hand. "I see it didn't help."

"No. I'm not sure why, except Father Christmas said it was for injuries. He never mentioned illness." She shook her head. "And I so wanted to help. It would have made Linnet so happy."

"It would." Peter squeezed Lucy's hand again. "And where is she this afternoon?"

"I believe she's gone out into the forest to practice her music," Susan said.

Peter sat up straighter. "Into the forest? Why?"

"She said she didn't want to disturb anyone. It's all right. Her maid went with her. And Radcliff."

"Miss her already?" Lucy ask, smirking as she toyed with her little blade.

Peter snatched it from her and held it out of her reach. "No, smartie, I just wanted to make sure she was being looked after."

"Give me that." She grabbed Peter's wrist with both hands and finally pulled the dagger back towards herself, laughing. "Peter! You're being mean!"

Frowning, Susan reached over and took the blade from both of them. "Behave yourselves. How many times has Oreius told you not to play with the weapons?"

With a pout, Lucy plopped herself into Peter's lap and put her arms around his neck. "Do you like her, Peter?"

He grinned a little. "Yes, I suppose I do."

The girls exchanged a significant glance.

"You have been spending a lot of time with her," Susan observed. "Do you think . . . ?"

She trailed off, one delicate eyebrow lifted and a definite wariness in her eyes.

"I think, sister dear, that it's far too soon to think anything except I probably should go bring her back into the Cair or assign her more of a guard."

He leapt to his feet and made as if he would toss Lucy into the rose bushes, grinning to hear her squeal, and then he set her with utmost care next to Susan.

"I like her," Lucy said.

"You like everybody," Susan reminded her.

"Not everybody. I didn't like–" Lucy broke off, glancing first at Susan and then at Peter. "I don't like everybody."

Susan pursed her lips and for a moment no one said anything. Though Lucy and Edmund had not, Susan and Peter both had been deceived just this past winter. All four of them had nearly died because of it. Susan was doubly wary now. Well, wariness was a good thing when one was a King or Queen.

Peter leaned down to kiss Susan's cheek. "I'm just going out to make sure she is all right, not to elope with her."

Susan laughed suddenly, color and beauty coming back into her face. And, calling his Tigers to accompany him, Peter made his way into the forest.

**Author's Note: Okay, I know. I know! But it's not going to be all sweet and fluffy. I just have to get this set up properly. Stay tuned.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Peter and Edmund Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me.**

Chapter Six

Peter strode through the forest with his Tigers at his heels. According to the Squirrel on sentry duty at the western gate, Lady Linnet and her maid had gone out that way with the Fox Radcliff as escort. It wasn't long before a sweet, lilting melody caught Peter's ear. He followed it through the trees, feeling that sweet contentment he had felt when Linnet played for him at Anvard. But he didn't feel the least bit sleepy now, only quietly happy.

He stopped as he drew near to where Linnet was sitting perched on a fallen tree. Ada, her maid, was sitting beside her, embroidering trim no doubt for her lady's gown. Before them, sprawled in the grass on his back, eyes closed and tongue lolling like a lazy dog's, was Radcliff. Bast and Babur exchanged a disgusted glance. So much for keeping watch.

But Peter only smiled to himself. Who could blame the Fox? What more, in a peaceful forest in the late-summer sunshine, would he have done himself?

Keeping behind a tree and motioning the Tigers to stay out of sight, he moved a bit closer. The music was playful now, light and almost laughing, and he wanted to laugh himself. What might it be like to have such music all the time? How might it ease his worries and lighten his heart when the burdens of ruling grew too great? He moved one foot, meaning to lean against the tree, and snapped a twig. The music broke off.

"Who's there?" Linnet asked.

The Fox was immediately on his feet, sniffing the air and growling low in his throat, and Peter stepped into sight.

"I beg your pardon, Lady. I did not mean to startle you. It's all right, Radcliff. It's only me."

The Fox bowed his head. "Forgive me, Majesty. I did not know."

"It is no matter," Peter told him. "But the next time the lady wishes to come into the forest, you should bring along some of the larger Animals to accompany her."

"Yes, Sire."

Peter turned to the ladies. "Will you accompany me back to Cair Paravel?"

Ada looked up from her sewing and Linnet put one hand over her heart.

"Is there danger, My Lord?"

Peter smiled and offered her his arm. "No, Lady. It is just my precaution."

Soon they were walking back through the trees, Lady Linnet on his arm, Ada and the Tigers behind them and Radcliff ahead as scout.

"You must forgive my interrupting your playing," he told her, "but my years as King have taught me to be wary even in sight of my own castle."

"You have been King a long while," Linnet said, and she leaned the ciaramella against her shoulder as they walked. "To be frank, My Lord, when I heard you were coming to Anvard, I had thought to find you long married and with many children."

Peter threw back his head and laughed. "No, unless by married you mean to my kingdom, and by children you mean my brother and sisters."

"I know from the tales that you were all quite young when you came into Narnia. It was good of you to look after them all."

He shrugged slightly, not looking at her. "It was only what I was meant to do, Lady, and no more. And now it is for the most part done and they are full grown." He looked at her now, smiling again. "Even Lucy is well able to see to herself and govern her own affairs as well as a kingdom. They are all quite able to do so, I thank Aslan, and are a great help to me in doing so myself. But I might have expected the same of you, Lady. You are well possessed both of lands and noble lineage as well as comeliness. Is there yet no one for you?"

Her cheeks turned a becoming shade of pink, and Ada coughed to hide a grin.

"My Lord, I–" Linnet toyed with the ciaramella she held, her slim white fingers tracing the smooth wood as she struggled with her words. "My Lord, there was one. A few years ago. But he was far above one such as I, and even if I were his equal, he did not take note of me." She was silent a moment, but then she spoke on, her voice a little more certain now. "But Aslan knows my time and place. He will send me the proper husband when He will. And better to have no husband at all than the wrong one."

Peter nodded. "Very true. But will you be allowed to wait, Lady? Once your uncle is gone, and I pray that is not for many years yet, will you not have to choose a husband from King Lune's nobles so that your dukedom will still have a Duke?"

"Yes," she said with a sigh. "But since my father died and my uncle had no children himself, I knew it would be so."

"That must have been very difficult for you, Lady," Peter said. "Was your father ill?"

She shook her head. "Not for a day. And he was not so old that one might have expected him to die in his bed, but that is what happened. And now my uncle is dying as well."

"I'm sorry, Lady. But not yet, thank Aslan, not yet."

Her face brightened and she held his arm more tightly. "No, My Lord, not yet.

They were silent for a while apart from the rustle of the grass and leaves, and then Bast froze where she stood, sniffing the air.

"What is it?" Peter asked, his voice low as he put his hand on his sword's hilt.

Babur came up to him, sniffing, too. "Blood. Near by."

Peter drew his blade and moved closer to Lady Linnet. Then he glanced back.

"Mistress Ada, if you please."

He motioned with one hand, and the maid, eyes wide and darting around the glade, came to stand at his other side. The Tigers flanked him and the two women, and the Fox crept forward on silent feet. Then he trotted back, his expression grim.

"It is a Deer, High King. Slaughtered a few yards ahead."

Bast sniffed again and then bounded forward.

"I knew her," the Tigress said when they caught up to her standing over the body, eyes full of grief and anger.

"Mrs. Darby," Peter murmured, stroking her still-warm muzzle.

No, no, this couldn't be. Not here so close to the Cair. Not with his soldiers patrolling these woods. Not while he was meant to be protecting his subjects.

He clenched his jaw and scanned the trees. "But where is her–"

There was a shrill cry and then high-pitched wails. "No! No! Mama, help! Help!"

"Stay with the women!" Peter ordered Babur, and then he and Bast sprang into the forest.

"No! Mama! Mama!"

There was a low, growling laugh, and then another shrill cry. Peter burst into the thicket just as the Wolf leapt on the Fawn, its already bloodied fangs tearing into the soft little throat. With a roar, Bast sprang upon the fell creature. It yelped once and then went limp as she snapped its neck. As gently as he was able, Peter took the tiny Fawn from the Wolf's mouth. She was trembling and crying still.

"Shh," Peter soothed. "He's dead now. He won't hurt you anymore."

"Mama," the Fawn wailed, her liquid brown eyes full of fear and pain. "Where's Mama?"

"It's all right now, little one. We'll take care of you."

Peter looked up at Bast. She still had the Wolf's body in her mouth, but she shook it one last time and then slammed it into the grass. Then she shook her head.

Tears welled into Peter's eyes, but he blinked them back and forced a slight smile. "It's all right," he told the Fawn again. "It's all right."

It wasn't all right. Blood poured from the Fawn's throat, even though Peter pressed his hand over the gaping wound, trying to hold it closed. There was blood coming from the little black nose and from the black lips. It was spattered on the soft spotted hide.

He started when someone pressed a handkerchief into his hand. Linnet was standing over him, tears streaming down her cheeks, lips trembling. "Oh, My Lord King, she isn't–"

He shook his head, almost imperceptibly, and then he turned again to the dying Fawn and pressed the handkerchief against her throat. Her delicate legs thrashed and she cried out again.

"Mama," she whimpered. "I want Mama. Hurts, Mama. Hurts."

"Hush, little one," Peter murmured. "You're not going to–" He drew a shaky breath and then steadied himself. "Radcliff, go to the Cair, quick as you can, and bring back the cordial. Quick now."

The Fox darted off, and Linnet knelt next to Peter, reaching out one hand to stroke the Fawn's heaving side.

"She's just a baby."

Peter nodded, half choked now. "Just a baby. If I could only ease her suffering . . ."

The tears got the better of him now, and he ducked his head, whispering to the Fawn he held cradled to his chest as she twitched and writhed. She was just a baby. _Oh, Aslan, ease her pain._

Linnet stood and walked away, and he was surprised by the sudden anger that surged through him. These were not her subjects. The Great Lion had not given this little one into her care. What did she know of Talking Beasts and what could they possibly mean to her? But how could she turn away from something so innocent, so helpless, so–

From behind him, so low he almost thought he imagined it, came the sweet sound of the ciaramella. It wafted over him like a gentle breeze, and his breathing slowed. He spoke again to the Fawn, and she, too, calmed. With a shudder, her crying stopped. She no longer kicked.

He still pressed the sodden handkerchief against her throat, but she no longer tried to pull away. Instead, with a tiny sigh, she laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes.

"That's right," Peter murmured. "Just rest now. Just rest."

She breathed in and out, slower now, even and calm like the song of the ciaramella, and he leaned closer to one wide ear.

"That's it. Go to sleep."

She nuzzled his neck, her tiny voice soft and dreamlike. "I like the pretty music."

"Shh," he whispered.

She breathed out a long sigh and was still.

For a moment, he held her closer, his heart breaking with the keening of the melody, and then that too faded into stillness. In the glade there was perfect silence, a silence broken at last by soft weeping. Linnet was kneeling beside him again, her hand on the Fawn's motionless side.

"It was like watching a child die. How do you bear it?"

"She was someone's child."

He tried to steady his voice and found himself sobbing instead, huddling over the tiny body as if he could shield it from any further hurt. What a fool he must look, but he didn't care. Aslan had given him a deep and abiding love for his family, for all those given into his care, and he felt no shame for that. Let her laugh if she wanted. But there wasn't laughter in her gray eyes, only tears and gentle pity.

Her chin quivered. "I wish there was more I could have done, My Lord."

"You did all there was to do. You eased the little one's passing." He put his hand over hers, there on the Fawn's still-warm side. "You say you are no healer, but if nothing else, Aslan has given you the gift of gentle comforting. I thank you."

"It was nothing, Lord King."

"It was everything." He brought her hand to his lips, pressing it with a fierce kiss. "For this Fawn, it was everything."

A moment later, Radcliff came with Lucy and the cordial.

It was a long walk back to the Cair.

**Author's Note: More fluff, a little angst, and a touch of mystery. What do you think?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Peter and Edmund Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me.**

Chapter Seven

Edmund smiled when he saw his brother coming up the stairs towards their quarters. Then the smile faded. Peter looked grim and was that–

"What happened?" Edmund asked, taking hold of his arm. "Is that blood on your tunic? Are you all right?"

Peter nodded. "Fine. It's just–" He shook his head. "I just buried Mrs. Darby and her Fawn out in the forest. A Wolf killed them."

"Oh, no. Not the little one, too."

"Yes."

Edmund pressed his lips together, eyes narrowed. He and Lucy had played with that Fawn only last week.

"How close?"

"Over near that grove of oaks by the stream." Peter said. "You know the place."

"That's practically our backyard. Was it fell?"

Peter nodded. "Bast killed it."

"That's not the first sighting we've had close to the Cair recently, Peter. Oreius killed a pair of Harpies south of the forest a couple of days ago. And Lucy swears she caught a glimpse of a Minoboar in those rocks off the beach. I had our scouts searching for it for three days, but they didn't find anything."

"I didn't know." Peter considered for a moment. "Why do you think they'd come around here now? They've usually stayed out west or up towards Ettinsmoor."

Edmund was silent a moment. "There has to be a reason," he said finally. "I remember when we first came to Narnia. Oreius was telling me about the White Witch and how the greatest concentration of Fell was around her castle. Not because she called them to her, but because they were drawn to her evil."

"You think something evil is drawing them here now?"

Edmund shrugged. "Just keep your eyes open. All the time."

"Right."

"Was there only one Wolf today?"

Sorrow came back into Peter's eyes. "Yes. We found the Doe first, already dead, and then heard the little one crying for her. The Wolf leapt on the Fawn before we could get to her, and by then it was already too late. I was holding her in my arms when she died. She was so little." Peter ducked his head and wiped one hand across his eyes. "Sorry."

"No need to be." _Tenderhearted Peter_. Edmund put one arm around his shoulders. "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up. You know Su doesn't like us to be late for dinner when we have guests."

Peter nodded, and then a bittersweet smile touched his lips. "She played for the Fawn. Linnet did. It made the little one calmer somehow. Not so afraid. Ed, I–" He shrugged, coloring faintly. "I like her, Ed. I really do."

"I do, too." Edmund smiled, but it wasn't without wariness. "Just keep your eyes open."

They walked in silence to the chamber of the High King and Edmund left Peter in the charge of his Faun valet.

"All the time, brother mine," Edmund added once the door swung shut. "All the time."

OOOOO

"You've outdone yourself tonight, Su," Peter said, lifting his cup in a silent toast.

Duke Janin smiled and nodded. "Truly, dearest Queen Susan, you are as fair and gracious as legend paints you."

"You are too kind, My Lord," she replied serenely.

Her eyes sparkled in the glow of the torches. She was never so lovely as by the lights of night, by firelight, candlelight, moon and starlight, like a jewel set against black velvet. So opposite from their younger sister who shone in the light of the sun.

Peter glanced at Lady Linnet as she sat at the table there between Susan and Lucy. If Susan was a Bird of Paradise and Lucy was a sweetly fierce little Sparrowhawk, Linnet was a Dove. Caring and tender. Not flashy, but lovely and calm as twilight over the summer sea. After all he had been through since he had been King, after all that had happened just this past winter, the thought of tranquility was very inviting. Truly, peace was a gift from Aslan. Could she be, too?

"Now, Your Majesties all," Duke Janin said, "though it is hardly repayment enough, I should like to contribute to our festivities by having my niece play for us."

"Here here!" Peter said, pounding the table, and the rest of the company, from the Bears and Centaurs down to the smallest Mouse, echoed him.

Linnet colored faintly and shook her head. "No, I thank you, Your Majesties, My Lords and Ladies, but my Lord and Uncle is too forward. I could never–"

"Of course you can." Lucy squeezed her new friend's hand. "Ever since Peter told us about your playing, we've all been just perishing to hear."

Susan's smile was a trifle cool but gracious as always. "We would be most honored."

Linnet looked at the girls and then, a little sternly, at her uncle. Then she glanced at Peter, and he gave her what he hoped was a winning smile.

"Please, My Lady."

Her color deepened. "I shall have to go fetch my–"

"It is here already, niece." Her uncle took the ciaramella from the Rabbit he had sent for it and handed it to Linnet. "Play for us."

She took a moment to wet the double reed and then blow warm air through the instrument, and then she nodded and the table was silent. There was a sudden merry sparkle in her gray eyes, and the tune she played was as light as the breeze through the tree limbs and across the summer grass. Soon all the company was smiling and swaying, keeping time with their hands and their feet, with hooves and paws and even with the swish of tails. Eventually, a pair of Cats got up to dance and soon several other couples joined them. Lucy whirled by with a Faun. Susan pulled Edmund, with only minor protests, into the throng, and in time Peter found himself dancing with his Tiger Bast, her great paws heavy on his shoulders as she stumbled through the steps and laughed at her twin's good natured jeering.

Duke Janin looked happier than Peter had ever seen him, laughing and thumping the table with his wizened hand as the dancing grew faster and more raucous, as the room swirled with color and light. But then he paled and his face contorted with pain and the music stopped.

Linnet laid the ciaramella on the table. "Uncle?"

"No, no." Janin waved away the cup of wine one of the servants brought him. "I am all right. Just a little tired. Play on, child. If Your Majesties will kindly pardon me, I will retire for the evening."

He somehow got to his feet, and Peter went to his side.

"May I help you, My Lord?"

"No, I thank you, Lord King. See to your guests. The festivities have only just begun."

He bowed to the Queens and to Edmund and then leaned down to kiss Linnet's cheek.

"Go on, child. Enjoy yourself. I am fine."

But when he straightened he stumbled, and when he stumbled he fell against the table. He and Linnet both grabbed for the ciaramella, but it was too late. The delicate instrument fell onto the stone floor with an audible crack.

Peter immediately dropped to one knee to retrieve it, but he could see already that it was damaged.

"I am sorry, Lady Linnet." He handed the ciaramella to her. "Can it be repaired?"

"Linnet, my dear," her uncle said, stricken. "Forgive me, child. It was all my fault."

"No, uncle. You mustn't let it worry you. If I hadn't been so clumsy, it would never have fallen." Her lower lip quivered, but she gave Peter a smile. "No, My Lord, I fear there is nothing to be done for it."

"A new one then," Peter suggested. "How long could it take?"

"Some time, My Lord," she said. "There are very few who make them these days, and it takes some skill to do it properly. I shall merely have to do without it for a time." She smiled a little more convincingly. "The world will not end."

Her uncle took her hand, shaking his head. "You needn't wait long, child. Only the time it takes to send a message to Deerfield and then send a rider from there to us."

"What do you mean?" she asked, and he grinned.

"I commissioned a new one for you months ago, the finest ever seen. It was to be for your birthday in three weeks, but you might as well have it now. In recompense for my ungainliness."

"Oh, uncle, really? Thank you!" She threw her arms around the old man's neck, making him laugh again and then, once more, he paled.

"I must–" A fit of coughing took him, and Peter put a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Please, sir, let me help you to your chamber."

Too winded now to talk, Janin nodded, and with Peter on one side and Linnet on the other, he hobbled out of the room.

OOOOO

"Thank you, Lord King," Linnet said once her uncle was settled into his bed and Peter was escorting her back to the great hall. "And thank you for having your healers attend to him, even though there is little they can do."

"But they can watch over him, My Lady, and see he is made comfortable."

She smiled and lightly bowed her head. "Yes. Thank you for that much. Now, please, My Lord, we must go back to your guests. They will be wanting your company."

"My sisters can see to them for a time, Lady Linnet. I daresay they've had wine enough to keep them merry awhile. I had much rather have a moment of private talk with you."

She looked shyly pleased and again bowed her head. "So please you, My Lord. Shall we sit?"

She motioned towards a marble bench set in one of the alcoves, and he escorted her to it.

"I merely wished to thank you, Lady," he said when they were seated. "For what you did for the Fawn today and for your music tonight. I could by no means feel unhappy as you were playing. Truly it is a gift."

"You are much too kind, Lord King. I hope to be able to play for you again soon."

"It will be soon though," Peter reminded her. "What a fine surprise that your uncle commissioned a new one for you already."

There was a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Never tell him, My Lord, but I did know of it before now. He left the message from the man who made it on his bedside table, and it fell onto the floor when I was tidying up for him one afternoon. But I wouldn't spoil his surprise for the world."

Peter chuckled. "No, of course not. And I suppose you couldn't help but read the message once you found it."

"That was bad of me, was it not?"

He only grinned. "I have sisters, you know. Such things are to be expected."

She raised one delicate eyebrow. "And, of course, you men would never . . . ?"

"Of course not. Not and get caught."

She laughed. "I do thank you, My Lord King, for your kindness in letting us visit your lovely kingdom. My uncle is very happy here." She looked down, suddenly shy. "And so am I."

"And we are happy–" He broke off, looking with deep earnestness into her eyes. "_I_ am happy, Lady Linnet. _I_ am happy to have you here."

He brought her hand to his lips, touching it not once but twice with a tender kiss, holding her there. She finally turned her eyes from his.

"Perhaps–" She drew a wistful little breath. "Perhaps we should go back to the great hall now, My Lord."

"Of course, My Lady."

He stood and offered her his arm. And when she took it, he couldn't help but notice how nice it was to have her at his side.

**Author's Note: In case you missed my earlier note, the incidents Peter and Edmund mention from the previous winter are detailed in my story "Counted Among the Traitors." The "mess in Tashbaan" from five years before that is told in my story "Refined by Fire."**

**Please let me know what you think of this story. Reviews make me so happy.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Peter and Edmund Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me.**

Chapter Eight

"I am sorry we shall not have your music tonight, Lady." Peter turned Linnet in the slow figure of the dance and then took her again into his arms. "But my brother sent to Deerfield this morning for your new ciaramella. It is not a long way by Gryphon, and we should have it here soon."

"I thank you both, My Lord. Truly it is most kind of him to see to it himself."

"I hardly know how I would get along without him, Lady Linnet. I half thought he might figure some way to have it here tonight, since he is always surprising me in such tactical matters. Though if you were playing, I should have to dance with Bast again."

Linnet laughed softly. "That was very sweet of you, My Lord, even if she is clearly more soldier than dancer. Perhaps one day, her brother might honor me in such a way. I had never thought to dance with a Tiger." Her smile grew, and there was a soft touch of wonder in her gray eyes. "Or swim with Mermaids or be taught the finer points of embroidery by Mice. What a wonderful place this Narnia is."

"Truly it is, Lady, and the more so for you are here to grace it."

She blushed and turned away with the next steps of the dance

"But tell me, Lady Linnet, are you certain there is no one who waits for you back in Deerfield?"

She smiled, turning left and then right and then returning to him. "No one, My Lord King."

"Not even that one you said took no notice of you before? Perhaps he notices you now."

"That may be, My Lord, but there can be nothing in it. He is set too high for only a poor Duke's daughter."

Peter frowned. "Is he deaf as well as blind?"

"My Lord?"

"He must at the least be mad, this idiot you speak of. How else could he overlook such a sweet treasure?"

She stopped dancing and stood staring at him. Then she burst into peals of laughter.

Peter felt his face turn hot. Far too soon. Far too soon to trust to such thoughts or speak such words. No doubt she thought him foolish now or, worse, insincere.

"Forgive me, Lady. I, uh . . . Forgive me."

He bowed and would have made his escape, but she quickly took his arm and started them dancing again.

"No, pray you forgive _me_, My Lord. That was most ungracious of me after so lovely a compliment. It merely took me by surprise. It merely–" There was an added glimmer in her eyes, the soft sparkle of unshed tears. "I am unused to such chivalry."

Once more she turned in the dance and then came back into his arms, the slightest quiver in her lips and her still-moist eyes fixed on his, but she smiled again as they finished the dance. Then Edmund swept her away as the music grew livelier, and Peter found Susan tugging at his hand.

"All right, Su. All right." He waited for the music to repeat and then swung her into his arms and whirled her across the floor. " I didn't think you'd have a minute to dance with someone so lowly as a brother."

"There is more than one lady present tonight, brother, in case you have forgotten. It would be chivalrous of you to pay some attention to them as well."

"I haven't forgotten. Lady Linnet and I were just talking and I let the time get away from me."

"That seems to be happening more and more lately." Susan smiled, but the smile didn't touch her eyes. "Are you sure you aren't being a bit hasty?"

"Hasty? About what? I haven't done anything."

Susan pursed her lips. "You've already told us you like her. Surely you aren't imagining it's anything more."

"Perhaps." He twirled her in the dance and then turned her to face him again. "It's not as if I've made any kind of declaration. I know it's far too soon for that."

"But you're thinking it, aren't you."

He shrugged. "Maybe. Why not? I'm certainly of age. I've been running a country for more than ten years. I think I'm qualified to run my own life."

"Of course you are." Susan's sternness melted into pleading. "I only want you to be careful. Peter, please. After what we all went through this winter." She tightened her hold on his hand. "We almost lost you. All because we were both too trusting. Because we listened to a smooth-tongued snake."

"Su."

Even though it wasn't that kind of dance, he pulled her close to him, wrapping her in his arms, and for a moment she clung there. They still danced.

"Too many people could advance themselves through you, Peter. I don't want you to be used and deceived and hurt. Not again."

"But I don't want either of us to be so wary that we never give love a chance." He kissed her hair and held her a little away from him again so he could look into her eyes. "And is it so impossible that someone might love me for myself?"

He gave her a little grin, and her eyes pooled with tears.

"Oh, Peter, of course she could. Of course. Just–" She bit her lip and smiled again, putting them back into step with the other dancers. "I just want you to be happy."

"I am," he said, smiling into her eyes. "Su, I am."

And he twirled her into the throng.

OOOOO

"You are a graceful dancer, My Lord."

Edmund turned his attention from Peter and Susan to the girl he was dancing with.

"That is most kind of you, Lady Linnet, but for that you must thank my sister, the Queen Susan. From the moment we came into Narnia, she insisted we have lessons in all the niceties of the court– dancing, etiquette, conversation."

Linnet laughed, and he couldn't help but smile. Little wonder Peter was charmed by her. "You had lessons in conversation?"

"We did, Lady. It wouldn't do for a King or Queen to ever be at a loss for words."

"I suppose not. And etiquette?"

"Etiquette was the worst." He heaved a great sigh and they turned in the dance. "Do you know how difficult it is to remember the correct way to greet each of the different kinds of Wood Nymph? Or what to offer a Centaur for breakfast? Or the proper way to congratulate a Cat on her new Kittens? Oh, the mistakes I made that first year!"

Linnet's eyes twinkled. "Poor thing. But I suppose all of you, being new to this land, had your missteps."

"True enough, Lady, true enough. But we found that, so long as they were treated with simple kindness and respect, our subjects were eager to accept us as we were, as Aslan's chosen."

They both glanced over to where his brother and sister were still dancing.

"I think He chose well," Linnet said, and he could tell her eyes were on Peter now.

"He chose well in the High King, to be sure. There is no one who could love or care for this Kingdom more than he. I cannot tell you how many times he's given his blood and nearly his life for her."

There was a wistful softness in her eyes. "So I have heard, and I have seen for myself his love for this place and his subjects. I did not expect to find so great a King and warrior with so tender a heart."

"It is true enough, Lady. He has never been one to consider his own danger, whether from pitched battle or from subtler wounds."

He clasped the girl's hand a bit tighter and gripped her waist more firmly as he guided her in the dance to the opposite side of the floor, nearer the music and away from where she and Peter had danced earlier.

"But if Aslan charged the High King with the protection of Narnia," he said, "then He charged me with the protection of the High King." The song ended and he saw Peter coming to reclaim her, so he bent over her hand, bringing it to his lips and lowering his voice for her ears alone. "It is a charge I would die or kill for."

He held her there a moment, his eyes fixed on her face, but it was only mild and guileless. "This I have also heard, My Lord. And in that I would say the High King is most fortunate."

In another moment, she was in Peter's arms again, and Susan was at his side.

"What do you think of her?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"I don't know."

**Author's Note: Someone asked how to pronounce Linnet's name. It's LYNN-it. Almost like "Bennet," but with an L. I hope you're enjoying the story. Any thoughts?**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Peter and Edmund Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me.**

Chapter Nine

"Oh, Uncle, it's beautiful," Linnet breathed as she lifted the new ciaramella out of its box.

Peter couldn't help admiring it himself. The first one had been lovely in its own right, well made and nicely detailed, the wood a rich cherry and the fittings polished brass. This new one, even if it hadn't been capable of making a sound, was a work of art. It was made of ebony and shone like black glass. The fittings, he was certain, were pure gold, and like the instruments the Fauns and Satyrs played, it was carved here and there with subtle vines and leaves and flowers. It seemed a little wild and somehow more Narnian than the other one. It seemed fitting.

Linnet's uncle smiled at her from across the luncheon table. "Does it please you, child? I am glad to have occasion to give it to you early. I wished to hear you play it before . . . " His smile faltered but then brightened again as he reached over to pat her hand. "Perhaps we shall hear you play again tonight."

"Yes, please, Lady Linnet." Peter scooted his chair just a bit closer to her and touched the ciaramella's smooth wood, not quite touching the soft hand already on it. "We would be most honored."

She moved her hand away, and her cheeks turned pink at the general murmur of agreement from the rest of the table. "I'm not sure, My Lord King. It is new to me. I shall have to practice some while before I am ready for a general hearing."

"It's not so different from the other is it? Practice this afternoon. I'm sure it will be fine."

"Just take a guard with you, Lady," Edmund added. "If you go into the forest again."

Knowing his brother's words were not as casual as they sounded, Peter nodded. "Or perhaps I might accompany you. If it would not disturb your practice."

Linnet glanced at her uncle who shook his head slightly.

"You mustn't take up all of the High King's time, child. Certainly, he has more pressing matters to see to."

"Forgive me, My Lord King," she said, looking at her plate. "I did not intend–"

"It would be my pleasure, Lady," Peter said, leaning down a little so he could look into her eyes, reassuring her with his own, and then he turned to Duke Janin. "I assure you, sir, I speak only what I mean."

"I know it well, My Lord." The old man gave him a wan, grateful smile. "Even in my dukedom, the High King of Narnia is famed for his kindness, a kindness upon which we have already too much imposed."

Peter shook his head. "Nonsense."

"And this pretty lady–" The Duke turned to Susan who said at his right. "This pretty lady has done far too much to make a poor stranger welcome."

Susan patted his frail hand. "My brother is right, My Lord. Nonsense. It has been our pleasure to make you and the Lady Linnet welcome here."

"Yes, it has," Lucy said, beaming at the Duke from the other side of his niece. "Linnet's been teaching Su and me some wonderful new dances from Deerfield and, oh, the lovely books she's brought with her."

Linnet grinned. "And I've been learning the niceties of the dagger."

The Duke's eyes widened, and Susan shook her head and sighed.

"Lucy, you really shouldn't–"

"Now, Su," Peter said, laughing, "a lady needs to know how to defend herself, doesn't she?"

"But– But, is it safe, My Lord King?" The Duke still looked alarmed. "Truly, she is but a child. Daggers? Oh, bless me, daggers?"

"I am near twenty, Uncle," Linnet scolded good-naturedly. "And I am capable of more than you might imagine."

"The Queen Lucy has been quite proficient with the dagger since she was eight years old," Peter added. "Lady Linnet is in the very best hands."

The Duke blotted his forehead with his napkin, looking a trifle overwhelmed. "Just as you say, King Peter."

"Perhaps I should stay here with you, Uncle," Linnet said, reaching her hand across the table towards him. "You do not look well again."

"No, no, of course I'm well. Well enough. If you've finished your meal, you go along, child."

He looked a bit startled as one of the Falcons swooped in through a window and landed on Edmund's shoulder. Edmund leaned his head to one side, listening to the Bird's whispered words, and then nodded.

"Thank you, Fulton. I'll be right there."

The Falcon flew away, and Edmund stood up.

"What is it, Ed?" Peter asked.

"Just a bit of business I must attend to, if you will all excuse me." Edmund glanced at Susan, a subtle summons anyone else would have missed, and then turned to their guests. "Duke Janin. Lady Linnet."

He bowed and then hurried away. Susan showed no sign of going after him. She wouldn't, of course, until the meal was officially over and her guests were suitably seen to. Well, Peter would find out what they were up to soon enough. For now, he had something a bit more pleasant in mind.

He took a sip of his wine, smiling at Linnet. "So are we agreed? May I accompany you this afternoon."

"If you like, My Lord. If it will not be any trouble to you."

"Not at all, Lady Linnet."

"Where are you two going?" Lucy asked. "If it's down by the stream, I just might walk along with you. I need to take some blankets to Mrs. Fenella. She just had five new babies."

Linnet clasped her hands together. "Oh, how sweet. What kind of babies?"

"Squirrels," Peter said. "They're awfully cute, even if their mother never stops talking."

"May we visit them? Please?"

"If you've finished your lunch, certainly."

He brought her to her feet along with him, and she picked up the new ciaramella.

"Thank you again, Uncle. It is most wonderful."

"You are very welcome."

Duke Janin also rose, slow and bit unsteady, and Susan took his arm.

"May I help you to your chamber, sir?" she asked.

"On, no, no, dear lady, you must see to your other guests." He smiled at Lucy. "Perhaps, since you must fetch the blankets for your little friend, Queen Lucy, you might go along with me. Just for the company."

"Oh, of course!" Lucy hurried to him and let him lean on her. "Now come and rest a while so you will feel well enough to come down to dinner and to hear Lady Linnet play."

"That would be very good. Yes, very good."

"I'll be back in a minute," Lucy told Peter, and then she led Duke Janin from the dining hall.

By the time Peter had collected Linnet's maid, Ada, her Fox guard, Radcliff, and his own Tigers, Lucy was back with five tiny blankets and two slightly larger ones.

"Would you mind taking these to Mrs. Fenella, Peter?" she asked. "The Duke was telling me about a book he has with legends about our own Eastern Sea. I do so want to know what's in it, and I think he'd enjoy being read to while he's resting."

"Sure," Peter said, taking the little blankets from her. "We'll see to the little ones."

Linnet looked anxiously towards the doorway her uncle had last passed through. "Perhaps I ought to–"

"Oh, go," Lucy said, practically shoving her and Peter towards the door that led to the garden and then out to the forest. "We'll be fine."

Peter offered Linnet his arm. "Shall we, Lady?"

She gave Lucy a quick hug and then slipped her arm through Peter's, the gleaming black ciaramella resting in the crook of her other arm. "Yes, My Lord, please."

They spent a while admiring Mrs. Fenella's Kits, three girls and two boys. Mrs. Fenella herself seemed rather awed by "the pretty lady" at first, but soon she was chattering away as if Susan or Lucy has been at Peter's side.

"She was very sweet," Linnet said once she and Peter had made their way to the clearing where she had practiced before. "And so grateful for the blankets."

He escorted her to the fallen log that she had sat on before, and Ada sat beside her and began her needlework once more. The Fox and the Tigers lounged on the ground.

"She liked you," Peter said as he settled himself at the foot of a tree wide enough to make a comfortable back rest. "And it was very good of you to wait to pet the little ones until she invited you to. Many visitors to Narnia don't consider how the Animals might feel."

"I didn't want to upset her or them." Linnet smiled fondly. "What did she say she named them?"

"Well, there was Kitkin, Kitkin, Kitkin and Kitkin, and the little one was called . . . " Peter pretended to consider for a moment. "Oh, yes, Kitkin. In case you didn't know, Squirrels rarely name their young until they're old enough for each one to exhibit its own distinct characteristics. Then they can be given names that particularly suit them."

She shook her head. "King Edmund said there was much to learn about the proper etiquette for each of your subjects. I think I should never keep it all straight."

"You would in time, Lady. It takes only a bit of practice and a true wish to learn." He nodded at the ciaramella. "It is no different than learning to play an instrument. In time, it becomes second nature."

She nodded and put both hands on the golden fittings. "Shall we see if I can master this one as well as I had the one that was broken?"

He nodded, and she began to play. At first she merely played up and down the scale, accustoming her fingers to the new fittings, but even that was mesmerizing. The sound of the new ciaramella was much like the old, rich and full, but it was even more enchanting than the other. When she began to play in earnest, Peter closed his eyes. The music as before, was deft and smooth, wafting through the trees like the summer breeze.

Soon he felt as if he were standing in the middle of a wide, green plain, empty but for a sprinkling of huge boulders. Behind him, banners snapping in the wind, armor gleaming, was a vast army, gallant Centaurs, nimble Fauns, Bears and Great Cats, Boars and Stags and Satyrs, every creature his kingdom had to offer. His army, all of them pledged to live and die for him. On the cliff above them were even more, an unnumbered host of archers awaiting his command. His pulse quickened with the pace of the music. Beruna. This was Beruna, and he was about to embark on the first and greatest battle of his reign.

His eyes were still closed, but his mouth turned up in a faint, hard smile. Beruna. The glory of that day, he could hear it still in the thrilling, martial notes, and his breath came faster. The White Witch had kept all Narnia in her frozen grip for a hundred years, but she had not been able to withstand him. She had been powerless before him. Before King Peter the Magnificent.

He lifted his chin and straightened his shoulders, his fingers tightened into fists, and he felt the taut eagerness that always preceded battle. Soon the Witch would be defeated, and thousands of voices would be shouting the victory, shouting his name. _King Peter! King Peter the Magnificent!_

"King Peter?"

His eyes snapped open, and Linnet was staring at him. The music had stopped.

"I– I'm sorry, Lady Linnet. I was so caught up in the music, I didn't–"

His face felt suddenly hot, and he looked around the clearing. Bast was standing, her tail twitching, her eyes flattened. Babur was next to her, fur bristling. Even Radcliff was on his feet, searching the woods. They were ready for combat. Warriors all. Again Peter smiled.

"The new ciaramella is wonderful, Lady. I hope you will honor us with playing at dinner tonight."

Ada glanced at her mistress who only looked faintly unsettled, but then Linnet smiled.

"I would be most honored, King Peter."

**Author's Note: So what did you think? Special thanks to Lady Alambiel for brainstorming help. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Peter and Edmund Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me.**

Chapter Ten

From his balcony, Edmund watched as Peter and Lady Linnet came through the garden and back towards the great hall. They stopped briefly, and Edmund heard his brother dismiss his Tigers and the Fox that had been their escort.

"And you will pardon us as well, Mistress Ada," Peter said.

The maid glanced at Linnet and then at Peter. "Forgive me, High King, but it would not be proper–"

"Here I decide what is and is not proper, Mistress." Peter smiled, a warm smile that softened the words. "You are dismissed."

Edmund frowned and hurried back into his chamber and then down the stairs. What was Peter thinking?

"You had no right, My Lord King."

Edmund stopped when he reached the archway that led into the garden where they were, stepping into its shadow, listening.

"Forgive me, sir," Linnet continued, her voice low and gentle as always, "but you had no right to send my maid away. It is the custom in Archenland for ladies of the nobility–"

"But we are not in Archenland, Lady" Peter said. "And surely you know you are safe in my company."

"I do not doubt that, My Lord. But Ada is–"

"You will play for us again at dinner, will you not, Lady?"

"I– I told you I would, My Lord." The girl sounded a bit bewildered. "A little, at least."

"No. Your new ciaramella is most wonderful. We must have you play a great while."

Edmund strained to hear, but for a moment there was only silence. Then he heard Linnet once again.

"Why, My Lord?" There was a wariness in her voice now. "What was it you saw today?"

Peter laughed. "Nothing but victory, Lady. Victory and triumph and glory. Who would not wish to see more of such splendor?"

Again there was silence between them.

"I–" Linnet's voice was softer than ever. "Perhaps I should not play tonight, My Lord. I am still learning the touch of this new instrument, and I do not wish to displease your company with my clumsiness."

"Nonsense, Lady. I heard your playing just moments ago. It was without fault. You must play tonight. Tonight and every night."

"I pray you pardon me, My Lord. I think it best–"

"I am King here, Lady Linnet." Peter's voice was a touch too loud now, a touch too cold. "I say you will play."

The girl took a startled breath. "Beg pardon, My Lord, but you will release me at once."

What was Peter thinking? Edmund stepped out of the shadows and saw Peter had a firm grip on the girl's arm. She was not pulling away from him. She only looked at him with a steely calm.

"At once, My Lord."

"What are you doing, Peter?"

Both of them turned, startled, when Edmund spoke. Peter's face flushed, and he immediately dropped his hand.

"I, uh . . . " He ran his tongue over his lips. "I merely wished to compliment the lady's playing by asking her to play for us again tonight." He looked at his hand as if he had never seen it before, and then he looked at Linnet. "Forgive me, Lady. I should not allow my enthusiasm to overpower my manners."

He bowed to her, and she curtsied coolly in return. "I pray you will excuse me, Your Majesties both."

"May I escort you to your quarters, Lady Linnet?" Edmund asked, stepping between her and his brother.

"I thank you, King Edmund, but I know the way."

She turned to go, but Peter again reached towards her, this time only lightly touching her arm. "Please, Linnet."

She stopped and then finally turned to him again, wary once more. "My Lord?"

"Linnet." Peter drew his hand back, and there was a bewildered pleading in his eyes. "Truly, Lady, I do not know what came over me. I most humbly beg your pardon." Again he reached towards her. "Please."

She studied him a moment longer. Then, her expression softening, she offered him her hand, and he bent over it, pressing it with a fervent kiss. She reached out with her free hand as if she would have laid it on his bowed head. Then she noticed Edmund and, faltering, freed herself and hurried into the Cair.

For a moment Peter only stared after her. Then he slapped himself on the forehead.

"Idiot. Idiot. Idiot!"

Edmund nodded mildly. "Yes. Yes, you are."

"I should go after her."

Edmund shook his head. "You should leave bad enough alone for now, and be glad Oreius didn't see you treat a lady that way."

He studied his brother's face a moment more. Peter was always the "parfit gentil knight," tender with their sisters and the little Animals of his kingdom and always chivalrous with the ladies. In anyone else, this type of behavior would have been merely boorish. In Peter it was unsettling.

"Oreius wouldn't have been more disgusted with me than I am with myself." Peter covered his eyes with one hand. "She'll probably pack up and take her uncle back to Deerfield."

"I don't think it's that bad. It looked to me like she forgave you."

Peter looked towards the archway she had just gone through. "I hope so."

"What happened, Peter? This afternoon in the forest, what happened?"

Peter shrugged, shaking his head. "Nothing. Nothing at all. We walked out into that clearing she likes and she played for a while. It was wonderful. Then we came back."

"No problems? Nothing fell was out there, was it?"

"I didn't see anything."

Edmund studied him a moment more, and then he nodded. "All right, we'll leave that for now. Would you like to know what information I had from Archenland? I told Susan and Lucy about it already."

"About what the Falcon told you earlier? Yes, of course."

Edmund looked around the garden, eyes narrowed, and then nodded towards the Cair. "Let's go up to my study."

Peter looked around, too, and then followed Edmund upstairs. Once in his study, Edmund made himself comfortable behind the desk. Peter sat in the chair across from him.

"What did you find out, Ed?"

"The lady's father, Duke Jan, died two years ago, just as she told you. The last anyone saw him, he was hale and whole and on the eve of a journey to Anvard to meet with King Lune and all his nobles on some matters of state. His dukedom was peaceful and prosperous. There was even a lady of Lune's court he meant to ask for in marriage."

Peter's nod was grim. "And the next day he was found dead."

"Found by Lady Linnet herself."

There was pity now in Peter's eyes. "She didn't tell me that part."

"Probably not pleasant for her to remember. Anyway, there was no real indication of the cause of death. There was no sign of violence on the body. No sign of any kind of poison. The healers there merely assumed it was failure of the heart, though that is hardly common for a healthy man only in his forties."

"True." Peter thought for a moment. "And so his brother becomes Duke in his stead. I can hardly imagine it of Duke Janin, but it is certainly possible he had something to do with Jan's death, isn't it?"

Edmund shrugged. "Maybe. But he had been away for a good two months before then and had to be sent for to come back afterwards. From what my spies on the Archenland border tell me, he has always been more of a scholar than a commander and would rather spend his days looking into arcane texts than governing a dukedom."

"And, now that he knows he hasn't long in this world, he wants to see all of it he can. I can understand that. Anyone else with an obvious reason to do away with Duke Jan?"

Edmund sighed. "You know how it is as well as anyone, Peter. There's always someone unhappy with anyone in a position of authority. But as far as Jan is concerned, there was no obvious threat at the time of his death. I've ordered my spies to keep looking into matters there in Deerfield, but actually there's nothing to show he did not die of natural causes."

"That settles that, then. And, uh . . . " Peter looked down at his boots. "If Duke Janin isn't likely to be around much longer, I know Lady Linnet will have to marry one of Lune's nobles so there will be a new Duke of Deerfield. Is there . . . " He looked up again "Is there someone in particular likely to take that office?"

Edmund had to force himself to not smile. He also had to force himself to not torment his smitten brother more than absolutely necessary. "From everything they were able to find out, the lady has refused all suitors that have presented themselves to her. It is said she gave her heart some years ago and will have no one else."

Peter's shoulders sagged. "She told me the same. And that he isn't someone who could ever really be interested in her. You didn't happen to find out who he is, did you?"

"I didn't think it was important. If he didn't want her, even for the dukedom, he wouldn't likely murder her father either."

"No," Peter admitted glumly. "I guess he doesn't really have anything to do with that. I just thought you might have found out, that's all."

"Sorry, Pete. I can't help you there. I guess you'll just have to ask her yourself."

Peter laughed half under his breath. "Right. Very suave. Very attractive. 'Tell me all about the man you really love and why isn't it me?' There's the perfect way to win a girl." He sighed and stood up. "Maybe I can at least convince her I'm not a complete cad if nothing else."

"You can try." Edmund stood, too, and gave his shoulder an encouraging swat. "Faint heart and all that."

"Right." Peter grinned as he opened the door into the corridor. "I'll see what I can do. Meanwhile, keep me posted on whatever you find out from Deerfield."

"I will. Don't worry."

Again Edmund studied his face. Peter seemed perfectly himself now. Maybe he had been just a little too eager to show his admiration for the girl's music down in the garden earlier. Still . . .

"And there was nothing out of the ordinary when you and the lady were in the forest earlier, Peter?"

Peter's eyes lit. "Just the most wonderful music you've ever heard. If I can, I'll try to get her to play tonight after all. See you at dinner."

He hurried away, and a moment or two later, Edmund saw him walking across the courtyard towards the tower where Linnet and her uncle were staying, whistling a martial tune as he went.

"Eyes open, brother mine," Edmund murmured as he watched after him. "Eyes open."

**Author's Note: Thanks again to Lady Alambiel for brainstorming help and for pre-reading. Do let me know what you think! **


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Peter and Edmund Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me.**

Chapter Eleven

Peter paused as he lifted his hand to knock on the door. All right, she had mostly forgiven him. Mostly. Sort of. He thought. But he had to know for certain. And he couldn't sit through dinner not knowing, not being able to ask, not being able to really talk to her in front of the whole court. There was nothing for it. He had to find out now.

He gave a confident but not-too-bold knock on the door and waited. Eventually it opened wide enough to reveal Ada's suspicious face.

"My Lord King?"

He made a polite bow. "Mistress Ada. I would like to speak to the Lady Linnet, if you please."

Ada pursed her lips. "Surely, My Lord, it is not meet–"

He felt his face turn warm. He'd made a muddle of things yet again. Of course he would not be invited into the lady's chamber.

"In the library, if she would be so kind, mistress. Just across the corridor here."

"Who is it, Ada?"

That was Linnet's voice.

He cleared his suddenly dry throat. "Lady Linnet?"

Lips still pursed, Ada took a step back and opened the door wider.

Linnet curtseyed. "Good afternoon, My Lord. Is there something you wished?"

"Merely to have a private word with you, Lady. Surely there is no harm in that."

"Perhaps not, Lord King," Linnet replied. "What is it you would say?"

"First, Lady, would you do me the honor of coming into the library for a moment." He nodded towards a still-wary Ada. "You and Mistress Ada, of course."

"Very well." Linnet glanced at Ada, too. "For a moment, My Lord."

He escorted her into the library and to the seat set into the window that overlooked the forest. Ada settled herself in a chair a discreet distance away and bent over her sewing.

Peter stood for a moment looking out the window and seeing nothing. Finally he realized Linnet was staring at him.

"You wished to say something, My Lord King?"

He wanted to get down on his knees before her and implore her to forgive him, but perhaps that was a little much for a mere moment of foolishness. Instead he tried a small, hopeful smile.

"Just that I'm sorry."

The wariness left her expression and a touch of pleased color came into her face. "I know, My Lord. It was barely anything to begin with, and I've quite forgotten it."

Obviously, she hadn't forgotten it. Not quite. But she had forgiven him. It was a start.

"May I join you, Lady?"

She inclined her head in assent, and he sat beside her. Seeing Ada eyeing him balefully, he refrained from taking Linnet's hand in his.

"I– I really don't know what came over me. I promise you, it is not my way to treat a lady with disrespect. It's not Aslan's way. I _mean_ to do what He says is right, even if I don't always manage it."

Her eyes grew brighter. "Do you suppose He shall come here again one day? I would very much like to see Him. I never have."

"And yet you believe."

She nodded. "I believe He is good. Deerfield is not far from the Calormene border, My Lord. We hear many tales about the one they call 'The Demon Lion of Narnia,' but those who call Him that have never seen him. Those who have seen Him, who actually know Him, tell a different tale, and I believe them far more than those who have never met Him. Those who know him say He is great and terrible and yet gentle and merciful and well worthy of our love. You and your brother and sisters have seen Him face to face. Have you not found him so?"

"We have, Lady. And did you have someone in particular tell you about Him?"

Her smile was tinged with wistful sorrow now. "My father. He was often at the court of King Lune and from there heard many wonderful stories of the Great Lion and believed in Him."

"And your uncle?"

"He was not there much. He never had much interest in politics. More in the arts and sciences. History and the like."

Peter nodded. "No doubt he can see proof of the Lion in all that as well. I hope you will get to see Aslan for yourself before long."

"Do you think He might come?" she asked. "Soon, I mean?"

He shrugged and then gave her just a hint of a grin. "He is not a tame Lion."

"But He is good," she finished for him.

They both laughed, and Ada stood, her sewing crumpled in one hand.

"Perhaps you should see how your uncle is faring, My Lady, and then it will be time to prepare for dinner."

Linnet sighed. "Yes, Ada."

Peter stood and brought her to her feet. "I will not keep you, Lady. I trust Lord Janin is comfortable here."

A touch of sadness came into her eyes. "You've all been very kind, but there is only so much that can be done for him. I fear he is becoming weaker every day."

Peter squeezed the hand he still held. "I am glad he has you to look after him. Have you been very close always?"

"After my mother died, when I was ten, he and my father both looked after me. Along with Ada, of course." Linnet smiled at her maid who only gave her a stern look in return. "Then, about three years ago, my uncle began going into the south of Archenland and even into Calormen to study. We saw him less and less until my father died. As soon as we could get word to him, he hurried back. He hasn't left me since.."

Again, Peter gave her hand a comforting squeeze. "I hope he will be with you a long while yet. I cannot much remember my own father, but I miss him still."

There was an added tenderness in Linnet's eyes. "But I see Aslan has provided you someone to be a father to you even now. Your General."

"Yes. Oreius." Peter laughed softly. "Very true. He watches over us and isn't afraid to cuff us when it's warranted. We would never have survived our first fortnight here without him."

She smiled up at him. "Again, Aslan has chosen well."

There was plainly admiration in her eyes. For Aslan? For him? For the High King, perhaps. But for Peter Pevensie?

"Lady, I . . . this lord you have spoken of. Well, surely, if he is above you, as you say, he must be no less, he is–"

Her black lashes swept to her flushed cheeks. "He would never wish to be lord of such an unimportant place as Deerfield, My Lord King."

"But–"

Ada cleared her throat. "My Lady, your uncle?"

Linnet slipped her hand out of Peter's. "Forgive me. Truly, I must go."

Peter glanced at Ada and then made a slight bow. "Of course. Thank you for speaking with me. I would not have there be any misunderstanding between us."

"Of course not, My Lord." She curtseyed. "I will see you at dinner."

"Please, Lady Linnet." Again he glanced at the maid and then looked pleadingly at the lady. "Will you not play tonight? One song, if nothing more."

She pursed her lips, and then they curved into a smile. "If you will, Your Majesty. One."

He seized her hand and brought it to his lips. "Until dinner then, Lady. I will count the minutes."

There was a touch of humor in her gray eyes. "That would be rather a tedious pastime, would it not, My Lord?"

He could not help laughing. She was as gracious as Susan, as merry as Lucy and as direct as Edmund, and yet she was marvelously unlike any of them. He could not wait to see her again.

"I will try to use my time more productively then, Lady Linnet. Until tonight."

"Until tonight," she promised, and with a sweep of velvet skirts she was gone.

OOOOO

Edmund took a bite of roast venison and nodded. "It is true, Duke Janin. Our brother has looked after us since we came into Narnia. It was our mother's last charge to him, and he has been faithful to it ever since." He looked towards the end of the feast-laden table. "It is time he saw to his own happiness."

The Duke followed his glance. Linnet, at Janin's other side, was laughing with Peter and Susan over Lucy's tale about some Moles who were helping her in the garden. The four of them were lit with candlelight and laughter, filled with good food and good cheer, and altogether content. Peter seemed particularly so. This girl, this Linnet, could she be what she seemed?

"Truly, he should," Janin agreed, studying Edmund's face. "A man so favored with youth and good health and all the graces of wealth, wit, beauty and favor must have his choice of any lady he wishes. My niece is young and has seen little of the world. I will not have her trifled with."

Edmund took a sip of his wine, refusing to take offense. "My brother has never been one to dishonor a lady, My Lord. You will not find a more chivalrous and constant knight in Narnia or all the lands."

Duke Janin gave Edmund an apologetic smile. "You must forgive me, sir. I mean nothing against the honor of the High King. But Linnet is precious to me, for herself and for the memory of my brother, her father."

Hearing her name, Linnet turned to him. "What do you say, Uncle?"

Janin patted her hand. "Nothing, child. Now, you did say you would play for us, did you not?"

"Yes, Uncle, but–"

"She did, My Lord." Peter beamed at her. "Please, Lady, if you would."

Edmund glanced at Susan and Lucy. Lucy was smiling at Peter, but Susan gave Edmund a subtle, cautionary glance, and he returned an almost-imperceptible nod. From all around the long table, there were voices clamoring for music, and, eyes lowered, Linnet finally took the ciaramella from the Stork page who had brought it to her.

A moment later, the room hushed and from the ciaramella came the first low, smoky notes. Linnet's eyes were closed, and Edmund watched her face. The usual sweet placidness was there, but there was something else, too. He couldn't quite tell what it was, though he was certain he would figure it out in time.

He exhaled, feeling the music surround him and fill him. No wonder Peter had been so insistent. This was more wonderful than the first time she had played for them. And yet there was something–

He would figure it out. He always could. He was known for his cleverness and his discernment, and rightly so. He could give Solomon a run for it when it came to wisdom, everyone said so. He could–

He shook his head, trying to clear it, fighting to keep his eyes open. Solomon's wisdom had been a gift. Whatever wisdom Edmund had himself was Aslan's gift as well. Aslan's gift. _Aslan. Aslan, please– _

He looked up, his reverie broken. There was a rumble somewhere in the night sky, a beating, leathery sound outside the window accompanied by squeaks and shrieks. He glanced at his brother, but Peter's eyes were closed, and there was a fierce, faraway smile on his face.

"Peter–"

With a whoosh and a clash of shutters, the room was filled with sudden blackness. The music broke off, replaced with screams and oaths and the unsheathing of swords.

"Peter! Bats!"

Peter already had Rhindon drawn. The gleaming blade slashed through the swarm of huge, winged rodents. They were fell. Edmund could see it in their blazing red eyes and dripping fangs.

"Get down!" he ordered, but he knew his sisters would do no such thing.

Lucy was swinging at the Bats with a tall iron candle stand, knocking down three or four at a blow. Susan was bashing as many with a large silver platter, her face twisted into a mask of loathing as, from time to time, she was forced to pull one of the hideous creatures out of her long black hair.

Peter was standing on the table now, slicing through the Fell as Linnet and her uncle huddled under him. His Tigers, Bast and Babur, leapt again and again into the air, pulling the intruders down, dispatching them with teeth and claws and then spitting them out in disgust. The guard and all the guests who were able drove at the Bats, beating them back towards the windows, but still they swarmed, the noise deafening, the stench staggering as they circled over his brother's head..

"Peter!" Edmund cried. "Get down! They're after _you_!"

They swooped again and again, diving at Peter, still shrieking and beating their wings, smashing crockery and overturning goblets and candlesticks, dashing food , plates and cutlery to the floor, and pulling down the tapestries and wall hangings.

"High King! My Queens! Get down!"

Oreius was standing in the great double doors that opened into the room, a score of archers behind him. Without question, Peter leapt from the table and huddled over Duke Janin and his niece. Edmund did the same with his sisters. There was the twang of twenty bowstrings, the hiss of twenty arrows and the shriek of as many Fell. It was repeated again and again until, with a faint, final squeal, the last of the Bats was dead.

There was a moment of taut silence, and then Edmund helped Lucy and Susan to their feet.

"All right?"

Lucy grinned. "I'll have to remember how useful these candle stands are next time there's a little skirmish."

Edmund winked at her and then turned to their older sister. "Su?"

She lifted a dead Bat by one wing out of the punch bowl, her lips pursed in disapproval. "They've ruined dinner."

Edmund gave her arm a squeeze and then hurried over to Peter. He was helping Lady Linnet and a white-faced Duke Janin out from under the table. The Bats were fell, there was no doubt of that, but they hadn't seemed to have a leader. But even so, they had obviously had an objective. He watched Peter hand Lady Linnet her ciaramella, broken reed and all, and then he narrowed his eyes.

It was Peter they'd been after, wasn't it?

**Author's Note: I'm sorry I haven't been able to post this sooner. I've been crazy busy, and I'm about to get busier. I'm working on a huge real-life project that's due in the middle of November, so it may be a while before I can post again. But, to make it up to you, here's a nice long chapter. I hope to have more soon . . . if you want it.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: Peter and Edmund Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me.**

Chapter Twelve

Peter surveyed the dining hall. There was hardly anything here now that wasn't broken or spilt or overturned. Dead Bats, or at least bits of them, were in and on everything. Lucy was already organizing a crew to clean up the mess, aided by Oreius's soldiers. Susan was gently calming their unsettled guests, shepherding them out so things could be once again put to rights. And Edmund–

Edmund was studying Lady Linnet. Peter had seen that look in his brother's eyes before. Baleful. Mistrustful. Calculating. But when he realized Peter was watching him, his expression immediately changed. Mild. Polite. Hooded. _It's not true, Ed. Don't think it._

Peter turned when he felt a frail hand on his arm.

"Good gracious, I've never seen the like of it." Duke Janin passed one trembling hand over his sweat-beaded face. "Is it always like this in your Narnia, My Lord? Perhaps my niece and I should go back to Deerfield."

"No," Peter and Linnet said at the same time.

She blushed and lowered her eyes, clutching the ciaramella a little more tightly.

"This sort of thing is most unusual here." Edmund took the old man's arm, steadying him, and then he glanced at Linnet. "These incidents with the Fell have been only recent. But, you may rely upon it, Duke Janin, we will find the cause of it. And soon."

The Duke patted his arm, leaning heavily on him. "That would be good. That would be very good indeed. Oh, good gracious, I cannot think how I'd bear such things continually."

"Oh, Uncle." Linnet patted his face with her handkerchief, giving Peter a pleading look as she did. "He really should lie down now. Please, My Lord King."

Edmund gave him another wary glance and then smiled gently at the Duke. "Let me help you to your quarters, My Lord."

Peter took the Duke's other arm. "_We _will help you, sir."

The old man was so wizened and wasted, it would have been easier to simply carry him to his chamber than escort him there, but he was a Duke and a nobleman and deserved to be treated with dignity. But before they could take more than three or four shuffling steps, Ada hurried into the room.

"Oh, My Lady, I've only just heard." She took Linnet's face into her hands, studying it. "Are you hurt? It's a wonder your poor heart did not stop altogether. The hall is a positive shambles! I've never seen such a mess! Duke Janin, you look white as a sheet. Do be careful with him, My Lord King." She took Linnet's arm. "Come, lamb. You'll go straight to bed, and not a word."

Fussing and scolding, she hurried Linnet away. Several minutes later, Peter and Edmund had the Duke safely in the care of one of the healers. The moment they left the Duke's chamber and headed towards their own quarters, Edmund caught Peter by the arm.

"We need to talk."

Peter shrugged out of his grasp, not slowing. "I know. I know it already. You don't trust her. What do I really know about her? Haven't I learned to keep my eyes open yet? Why don't I ever listen to you?"

"Peter, I just–"

"No, Ed." Peter walked even faster, not looking back. "I realize something is going on. It has been since I came home. That doesn't mean it's her fault. The Fell–"

Edmund grabbed his arm again, forcing him to stop there in the middle of the corridor, Peter's door on one side, Edmund's across from it.

"The Fell," Edmund said evenly, "are not coming here by chance. They are always attracted to evil. The evil is here. Now. And it seems to be targeting you."

Again Peter shook him off. "And you have no proof that any of this is tied to her. Just because it's been happening since she got here, that doesn't mean she's responsible. I thought you liked her. The girls certainly do. You know I do."

"No, the girls don't. Lucy does. Susan doesn't. Susan is polite to her, but she doesn't trust her. Especially not after tonight."

Peter shook his head. "You're both too suspicious. I've seen no reason not to trust Linnet."

Edmund looked him straight in the eye. "You saw no reason not to trust Gil."

Peter felt the hot blood rise to his face. He'd been a fool to let Gilfrey Becke deceive him, poison him and almost kill him. But Edmund had not been deceived. He had only nearly been killed because of Peter's credulity. But Linnet wasn't Gil.

"Lucy saw through him," Peter insisted. "And she likes Linnet."

"And Susan?"

"Susan doesn't trust Linnet, but that's because she was taken in by Gil. Of course she's wary after that. Of course you are, too. Why wouldn't you be?"

"Why wouldn't _you_ be, Peter? You nearly died!"

Peter scowled at him. "You're being ridiculous. You can just look at Linnet and see there's nothing wrong with her."

"That a pretty flimsy method of judging someone."

"She loves Aslan."

"She _says_ she loves Him." Edmund lifted one eyebrow, and it was as good as a sneer. "How do you know she isn't just pretending so you'll trust her?"

Peter's scowl deepened. "She hasn't done anything wrong."

"Then why did those Bats go straight for her?"

"They were after me," Peter insisted. "Do you think _I'm_ evil?"

"Don't be stupid. You ought to send her and her uncle back to Deerfield before something really bad happens."

"You might as well ask me to send Lucy or Susan or even Oreius away. They were all there tonight." Peter put one hand on his door. "Coincidence does not equal guilt, and I should think, brother mine, that Narnia's greatest judge would realize that."

"And I shouldn't think, brother mine, that Narnia's High King would still be such a blockhead after what happened this winter. Why are you so fascinated with her? What is it you see when she plays that infernal ciaramella?"

Cold fury shot through Peter's veins, and he let it glitter like ice in his eyes. How dare he? "You would do well to remember, brother mine," he hissed, " who is High King here and who is not."

"Peter, please." Edmund's near-black eyes were wary, even fearful. "Are you even listening to yourself? Can't you see–"

"I can see you presume too much to tell your High King what he ought and ought not do. And who he ought and ought not spend time with." Peter let that cold fury glitter in his smile. "Brother mine."

And before Edmund could say another word, he stalked into his room and slammed the door behind him.

OOOOO

Edmund slammed his own door, fuming. _Arrogant, pig-headed numbskull._

"We are the High King and not to be questioned," he mocked, seething. "Peter, you idiot."

He strode to his window, looking out over his Western Wood. "I'm a King, too, you know, you great, stupid–"

He broke off with a sigh and leaned on the windowsill. Peter wasn't being himself. It was still almost nothing, but perhaps that was what was so troubling about it. Only his closest friend, his shield, his brother, might notice it. He looked now towards the southwest. Towards Archenland. Deerfield. Where were those reports? His spies had to have more information by now.

For some time, he studied the reports he already had. Maybe he was wrong about Linnet. She certainly seemed perfectly nice, certainly pretty and charming. But he knew too well that evil often had an alluring manner and an appealing exterior. He needed more information, and he needed it now. Now before Peter was drawn even more deeply into whatever had a hold on him.

Edmund's heart softened. It wasn't Peter's fault. If he was bewitched and ensnared, it wasn't his fault. More than ever he'd need Edmund's help, his protection, his wisdom. _Aslan, I need Your wisdom now more than ever. And your grace._

He'd get further with Peter with gentleness and patience than with sarcasm. He knew it all too well, and he'd handled that last conversation all wrong. He had to try again. He had to–

He heard the familiar creak of Peter's door and peered out of his own. According to the water clock, it was nearly midnight. What was he doing up now, and where was he off to? The kitchens were the other way.

Edmund waited until Peter turned the corner, and then he crept silently after him, down corridors, up stairs, across the courtyard and down another corridor and into one of the smaller towers. What was he after? This tower had nothing much in it, just storerooms. What did he want here?

Edmund waited until Peter shut the door behind him, and then he crept up to it and opened it just a crack. Peter wasn't in sight, so he nudged it open a little wider and slipped inside. The first door was open, but a quick glance showed him only boxes and some bolts of cloth. Peter wasn't there.

He padded up the circular stairway to the door to the next level. This one was closed but unlocked. He pushed it open, but this room, too, was empty. It was the same for the next two floors. Perfectly silent. Completely unoccupied. Evidently Peter had gone straight to the top of the tower, but why?

Edmund crept up to the last doorway, his right hand on his dagger and his left on the door. He didn't know what was up here or why Peter had come, but he would be ready. Whatever it was, he was prepared to meet it.

The latch made a near-silent click as he turned it, and the door swung open with only a slight scrape of wood on stone. The moonlight poured into the chamber, lighting it with pure silver.

"Peter?" Edmund whispered, somehow chilled, and then he raised his voice. "Peter?"

But the room was empty.

**Author's Note: Okay, I couldn't resist playing in Narnia a bit more, even if I am supposed to be doing real work. Please let me know what you think. Otherwise, I'll think you don't like this story, and that will make me sad. :::melodramatic sniffle:::**

**In case you don't know already, the story about Peter being betrayed and almost killed during the winter prior to this story is "Counted Among the Traitors" and its companion pieces, "Amity" and "Clarity." If you haven't read them, you might want to, though they are only background to this story.  
**


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